


A most gratifying victim

by seductivemessiah (emmadilla)



Category: Hellraiser & Related Fandoms, Hellraiser (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, F/M, Porn, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13857075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/seductivemessiah
Summary: Shawn opens the box, hoping to find the boundless pleasures within. What he gets, however, is not quite what he bargained for.





	A most gratifying victim

**Author's Note:**

> So just to be clear, this is *my* story that I originally posted on adultfanfiction.net years ago. I've since lost my login info and since I'm posting everything here now anyway, I figured I'd edit it, clean it up, and post it here. Please do not go report happy, I am the original author, I'm just reposting it so all of my work will be in one place. :)

He blinked once, twice, trying to make his eyes focus and tell him of his surroundings, but they weren’t responding as everything remained blurry in the void. He soon realized why, however, as he grasped that he was in the middle of a dense fog, the faint smell of vanilla in the air. An eerie light floated to him from somewhere above, not quite as strong as sunlight, but not quite as dim as moonlight. Though it lighted him sufficiently, he still could not see. The mists swirled around him, enveloping him as if to embrace him, and then moved away and down. He looked at his hand, as if the answer was written on his palm, but it revealed nothing and he dropped his hand to his side again.

 

The utter silence of the place haunted him as he wished for a break from the slow torture of being utterly alone. He went to open his mouth, to say something, _anything_ , but he suddenly wasn’t even sure of his voice. Could he speak? And, if he could, could he even remember how to talk? He felt like he was stripped of all instinct, not knowing his abilities and his limits. Thoughts ran through his head as he tried to remember things.

 

Shawn. His name was Shawn. What was he doing here? He looked down at his brown boots, trying to take in as much as possible in hopes that it would trigger something.

 

The box. He had a box. Somewhere. He had just been holding in his hand, hadn’t he? But now it was gone. He quickly surveyed what ground he could, in case he had dropped it, but such was not the case. What was the box for? He had spent a pretty penny on buying the box, it was very important for some reason, something to do with pleasure? But how could a puzzle box hold pleasure? There was something else about it that he could not quite remember. Something about a gateway. Wasn’t the box a gateway of sorts?

 

Of course, that was it. The box was a door, a path to heights of pleasure no human could experience on earth. That was why he had bought the box and opened it. Supposedly, he should be in the throes of pleasure anytime now, but it wasn’t happening. Instead, it was just fog and stillness.

 

Which brought the issue back to his voice. Perhaps he had to speak to get things … ah … going? He opened his mouth and softly said, “Hello?” He was almost surprised that the words spilled over his lips. But then, why should they not?

 

He spoke up again, more confident this time. “Hello?!”

 

That’s when he thought he heard footsteps in the void, heavy boots and the swish of material. A dark silhouette appeared before him and it seemed that the fog was starting to clear a little bit. A woman then appeared from the bosom of the fog, of ghostly appearance. Her skin was an ashen grey, giving her the appearance of a corpse, though there was no sign of rot. Her shoulder-length black hair was the same color as her eyes, and her black leather corset-bodice looked like it had been sewn onto her skin. Two massive rings were pierced through her skin under both collarbones, and a length of chain was linked through them. Her sharp, black-polished nails seemed to enunciate the scarification patterns on her fingers, which echoed the same design as the pattern on her lips. Her long skirt had slits up both of the sides and revealed large, buckled, black leather boots and, above them, ashen grey skin.

 

It wasn’t so curious or stunning as her face, however. Her lips had a pattern of scarification that seemed almost tribal to him, but had an edge he could not identify. She had rings and spikes through various piercings on her face, not so many that they overwhelmed her features but enough to give her an edge, an otherworldly appearance.

 

Sure, she wasn’t a conventional beauty by any stretch of the imagination, but she exuded a sexuality that transfixed him, paralyzed him with his mouth gaped open and his throat dry. Even if he wanted to say something, he felt that he could not.

 

She did not say anything either. She simply stared at him for a minute or two, and then wordlessly offered her hand to him.

 

Shaun was almost taken aback by this. She expected him to just trust her implicitly? And yet, he felt no hesitation within himself as he reached for her. He almost jumped as their fingertips touched; her hands were icy cold, and seemed to sting his hand as she enveloped hers around his in a death grip. She turned, and he could see the bodice dipped low on her back, revealing that it was indeed sewed into her skin, the edges rough and in some places still oozing a blood that was so dark it looked black. Had he had more presence of mind, he would have shivered, would have torn his hand from hers, run for the hills, prayed for salvation.

 

But he did no such thing.

 

He followed behind her like a lost puppy, hoping that this was what he had been hearing about. Maybe she was taking him to a roomful of giddy virgins, ready and giggling in anticipation of being taken. Or maybe a roomful of oiled women, well-versed in the arts of pleasure and just waiting for someone to practice their skills on. Or, perhaps, she was the prize herself. Maybe she was the pleasure-giver that had been the reason he had searched so ardently for the box, and was overjoyed when he finally found it and had it in his possession.

 

She still said nothing, silently guiding him through the maze of fog to an unknown destination, the smell of vanilla getting stronger. Not knowing what lay ahead of him was making his gut nervous and his knees shaky, and he licked his lips keep himself grounded. Finally, he worked up the courage to ask her, “Where are we going?”

 

Her voice was so deep and gravelly, at first he wasn’t sure if it was really her who responded. “Oh, you will see, Shawn, you will see. I have such sights to show you.” She then turned her head and flashed him a quick smile that made him forget to wonder how she knew his name. She simply knew it, and that was enough for him.

 

A towering wall eventually appeared through the swirling mists, and the woman led him through the door and into a sparse room. There was naught to speak of in the way of furniture or anything else in the room, for that matter. All that was there was a large bed, positioned in the middle of the room. That was it. No windows, no chairs, nothing. Oh well, it wasn’t like one needed much for sex.

 

The woman let go of his hand, turned around, and smiled at him. Motioning at the bed, she bade him to lay down, and he obliged, grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of what was to come.

 

The only thing was what was to come was not at all what he expected.

 

Chains came out of nowhere and hooked into his flesh, pulling his arm and legs into a spread eagle position. More chains hooked into his side and his face, tugging at the flesh as he screamed.

 

The woman simply stood there and smiled, waited until he was mostly done with the screaming, and climbed on top of him, running her hands over his tanned chest. “Is this what you want?” she asked as she then slid her hands down and ran them over his crotch.

 

In lieu of that question and the implication behind it, the pain was pushed to the back of his mind, and he nodded in the affirmative.

 

She leaned over to kiss him, immediately shoving her tongue into his mouth to try to capture his own. He moaned, and sank into the kiss, allowing her full access to his mouth. Their teeth clicked together as her kisses became more and more deep, and his manhood started to swell and push against her abdomen.

 

Fully aware of this, she then sat up and scooted down so she could free his member. He groaned loudly when she clasped it and gently worked it over, the scars on her fingers adding a wholly new and pleasurable dimension to it.

 

She did not dwell on that for long, however, as she soon mounted him. She gave him no chance to adapt to the change as she immediately started to ride him. His breath caught in his throat and he didn’t know whether to moan in pain or pleasure as the more she rode him, the tighter the chains got. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to just focus on the pleasure and ignore the chains that were threatening to pull him apart. However, that was not was she wanted; she wanted him to feel just as much pain as pleasure.

 

With a mere thought, the chains tightened at a quicker rate.

 

His eyes flew open as he screamed a blood-curdling scream, the joints in his arms and legs straining in their sockets. Sitting on top of him, grinding against him, she was ever smiling, simply taking in the sight of such pain mixed with such pleasure.

 

Suddenly she quickened her pace, and his breath became harder and harder to take in until he thought his lungs would burst in effort. His head lolled back and he arched his back, grinding against her in cadence with her own ministrations. He was getting closer and closer, so close. His release was imminent, and she knew it, pushing him harder and faster until he could go no more, and he exploded inside of her.

 

Once he came, the chains tightened for the last time, pulling his body completely apart and leaving her to sit on a bed of blood.

 

Running a hand over her face to clean the blood off it, she suckled on a blood-soaked finger and smiled.

 

He had been a most gratifying victim.


End file.
